


Too close for comfort

by clottedcreamfudge



Series: Tooth-rotting Malec nonsense [11]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alec Lightwood-centric, Arguing, Canon Compliant, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jealousy, Love, Lydia Branwell & Alec Lightwood Friendship, M/M, One-Sided Alec Lightwood/Jace Wayland, Personal Growth, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clottedcreamfudge/pseuds/clottedcreamfudge
Summary: He moves forward without any conscious thought, wrapping his arms around Magnus and burying his face in the other man’s neck with a murmured apology that amounts to the word ‘sorry’ over and over again. Magnus doesn’t hesitate for a second, his own hands very quickly finding their usual place on Alec’s back, tugging him in closer and whispering his own apologies in return.“It’s me, I’m sorry,” Alec whispers. “I just get so stuck in my own head, I can’t- I don’t know how todothis.”➼5 Times Someone Hugged Alec + 1 Time He Reached Out First
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood, Lydia Branwell & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Tooth-rotting Malec nonsense [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170269
Comments: 46
Kudos: 284





	Too close for comfort

One - Jace

Alec had been relatively young when Jace had come to live at the Institute, taken under the dubiously appropriate wings of Maryse and Robert Lightwood. What he had _not_ been was confused; he knew straight away that how he felt about Jace was different, and that nobody would be okay with him wanting what he did. Even if boys liking other boys _had_ been okay in Shadowhunter society, it wouldn’t have been okay for _him_ to like them. Not a Lightwood. Not with that name to uphold.

He was determined to be the best friend and adoptive brother possible for Jace, because at the end of the day, that was all that Alec could ever be to him. He knew that Jace had been through some stuff - seen his father murdered by the Circle - and for all his confidence and bravado, things like that always leave a mark.

Still, Alec had boundaries.

The only touching Alec would allow or instigate for a few months was the usual _bro_ stuff that he knew was acceptable. He could punch Jace in the arm when he teased Alec about having a crush on some girl he’d never even _looked_ at, and even getting each other in a headlock was totally fine, provided it ended in a borderline painful noogie for the recipient. They were allowed to beat the ever-loving crap out of each other in training; Jace got the upper hand for so long that Alec had literally _whooped_ with triumph when he’d first managed to slam Jace to the floor with enough force to make his teeth rattle.

Jace had hugged him then, still breathless on the floor, laughing delightedly as he’d pulled Alec into a fierce embrace. Alec had managed not to freeze up, but it had been a close thing; every instinct he had was telling him to get the fuck out of there, that being this close to Jace like this - when they weren’t laying into each other - was dangerous. He could be found out through the power of osmosis or something. He’d been terrified that Jace would know, somehow, via the closeness of _hugging_ , that Alec was gay.

Obviously, nothing like that had happened.

Still, Alec never reached out for Jace, no matter how much he wanted to. Even when they became _parabatai_ , when they had that link that made them closer than Alec had ever been with anyone else, he couldn’t make himself do it.

He’s better now, he thinks, but a lot has changed since then. _He’s_ changed.

* * *

Two - Maryse

Alec’s parents had never been big huggers. They weren’t precisely hands-on with their offspring, and though they weren’t negligent, physical contact was limited to what the Lightwoods deemed necessary.

 _Hugging_ wasn’t necessary.

Which is probably why Alec can remember the first day he’d truly realised his mother actually loved him. He feels bad now, looking back, that he didn’t get just how fucked up his entire family dynamic was, but it’s not like they didn’t fit the usual Shadowhunter template; if your kid cries you glare at them until they stop, and explain why crying is useless to a warrior. Nip the behaviour in the bud. There’s no place for tears on the battlefield, after all.

Alec had been maybe eleven years old when he’d nearly died. That’s not him being dramatic or anything; he’s pretty sure his heart had stopped beating for a little while, though he can’t be sure because his parents _really_ don’t like to talk about it. He’d been too young for patrols, obviously, but if there’s one thing he and Max have in common it’s the desire to be taken seriously - to be given a chance to prove their worth.

So he’d snuck out. Alec’s still not sure how he’d managed it, honestly; eleven-year-olds, Shadowhunter or otherwise, are not known for their subtlety or sneaking abilities. Somehow, he’d done it though, and better yet, he’d managed to find a Shax demon.

It had _obviously_ gotten the better of him. He’s lucky someone had realised he was missing, because he probably would’ve either bled out or died of the poison right there in some godforsaken back alley.

He’d woken up in the Institute infirmary with his mother standing over him like an angry statue. He’d been fucking _terrified_. Alec can still remember the bone-deep certainty he’d felt that he was going to be sent away; he’d failed as a Shadowhunter, disappointed his parents, and almost _died_ and left his sister on her own.

Then his mother, towering over him for all that he’d been close to outstripping her height already, had swooped down and gathered him up in her arms like he was still a child. His brain hadn’t known what to do, but his arms had come up to wrap around her shoulders automatically, working on ancient muscle memory. Maryse hadn’t cried, but Alec thinks she might have been close. He’d apologised over and over again, his mother’s arms tightening just a little around him at every repetition; the hug had lasted for a minute, maybe, but it had felt like hours.

“If you ever do that to me again, Alec,” she’d said after pulling back, unable to mask the shaking concern in her voice, “I will personally see to it that you end up on ichor duty until you’re in your 50s. Do I make myself clear?”

She had.

Alec has a much better relationship with his mother these days, and now he has a little perspective, he does wonder how close he got to seeing her fall apart. He thinks she’d held him so tightly to keep herself together. He maybe gets that just a little too well.

* * *

Three - Izzy

If there’s a Shadowhunter more into physical affection than Izzy, Alec has yet to meet them. He’s also not sure he knows anyone else who can kill a demon from twenty paces in six-inch heels, but he thinks that knowing one person with that incredibly specific superpower is probably enough.

She has also, historically, been good at making him feel a little bit off-balance. It’s probably what comes of having someone know you so well and so completely that you can’t get anything past them; Alec would like to say he hates it, but he’s always kind of liked that Izzy sees through his bullshit, even when it hasn’t been totally convenient.

For example… After their truly excruciating conversation prior to Alec and Jace’s _parabatai_ ceremony, Alec had been hoping against hope that she’d leave _it_ and _him_ the hell alone for a little while. He and Jace were bonded now, and he was going to have to come to terms with the maelstrom of feelings he had about that particular nugget of information; he kind of wanted to be given some space to sort through his emotions - and maybe figure out how to make sure his feelings didn’t bleed through this freshly made connection. 

In classic Izzy fashion, however, she’d come to his room later that night and pulled him into a hug that lasted at least twenty-five minutes. Alec had actually ended up keeping count as the seconds slipped past, wondering when she’d get the hell out of his lap and stop poking him in the shoulder with her incredibly pointy chin.

He’d hugged her back though.

These days he’s more likely to get her pointy chin in his sternum than his shoulder, even taking into consideration those killer heels, but the one thing that never changes is that she can see right through him. Izzy always knows when her big brother needs a hug, even though he’ll pretty much give himself a hernia making sure he doesn’t let it show. 

He’s getting better with his signals, or so Izzy tells him.

“You used to look so constipated all the time that it was hard to tell,” she says with a slight wrinkle of her nose. “Now you’re happy most of the time, so when you start to look a little bit constipated again, I just get right in there.”

“Evocative,” Alec says drily.

He might still find it hard to ask for what he needs, but he’s glad that Izzy has never needed him to be good at that.

* * *

Four - Clary

Okay, so - Alec and Clary are friends now. This is a thing that happened, somehow, without any conscious effort on his part at all. They didn’t bond over crushing on Jace - especially because Alec looks back now and doesn’t actually really _get it_ \- and there was that whole thing where she kept running the fuck off and getting him into trouble by being super terrible the whole time.

She’s less terrible now. She’s actually, you know - decent. A good Shadowhunter. Alec doesn’t say any of these things to her, because the one time he’d accidentally referred to her as his friend in public, she’d almost started crying, and he’s never been very good at comforting people. Izzy had been absolutely delighted, while Alec had stuck to being alarmed. He’s really not sure that the slip-up had required this level of emotional outpouring.

Clary has always been pretty physical with everyone but Alec. Maybe it was because she’d seen him and realised in five seconds flat what he’d been hiding from literally _everyone around him,_ and very sensibly assumed that he wouldn’t want to be touched in any capacity by the girl his _parabatai_ was completely obsessed with. Maybe his ‘fuck the fuck off’ vibes - which had apparently been “quite impressive, darling” actually worked on her. Alec doesn’t know, because he hasn’t ever asked. Whatever the reason, other than physically dragging her away from every stupid, dangerous situation she ended up in, or sparring, Alec and Clary had never really touched.

Then she’d had to give him mouth to mouth after he’d nearly been _slightly_ drowned by a demon on a patrol, and when he’d coughed and spluttered his way back to breathing, she’d hugged him so hard he’d almost needed further CPR.

It hadn’t been completely awful.

Something had shifted in their relationship after that, and it was kind of like having another sister - which he hadn’t necessarily asked for or _wanted_ , but he guesses that’s kind of how family is.

And oh god, the first time he’d said she was _family_ … The noise she’d made had been inhuman. Izzy had confirmed over the top of Clary’s head that it was a happy noise, but the fact that she’d been practically sobbing into Alec’s chest made him a little dubious about that.

She doesn’t cry every time now. It’s a _relief_.

* * *

Five - Lydia

Alec’s relationship with Lydia could have been so much less complicated from the start if he’d been just a little bit less of a repressed, self-sacrificing tight-ass (Izzy’s words, not his). As it is, they start on difficult ground, what with the whole ‘almost getting married then leaving her at the altar with her blessing to go and make out with the High Warlock of Brooklyn’ thing. It’s not exactly how most epic friendships start out.

Their friendship though? It is _kind of_ epic. Also, it had come completely out of left field. Lydia works with and for the Clave, even though her ideals have changed quite a bit from the day she _Valentined_ her way into the Institute and took control from the Lightwoods with a cool, calm flick of her high ponytail. The thing is, with all the changes Alec’s been making since they first met, he’s needed support wherever he can get it.

Lydia has been one of his staunchest allies.

It had started off with the two of them staying late after a truly excruciating meeting about some minor changes to the Accords that were being flat-out refused by the Clave, and Alec had been about ready to _explode_ with frustration and annoyance.

“Drinks,” Lydia had said decisively, rising from her chair and stretching. “We need some.”

“That seems a little unprofessional,” he’d said, a little doubtful - though not inherently unwilling. He’d been halfway out of his chair without even realising it, his body already with the programme even if his conscience hadn’t been entirely on board yet. Lydia had snorted derisively.

“More or less unprofessional than the fact that we nearly got married for political reasons, before you left me at the altar for an admittedly very attractive male warlock?”

“Magnus _is_ really attractive,” Alec had said, which is when he’d realised he was _definitely_ too tired to continue with work. “I mean - yeah. Drinks. Let’s do that.”

They’d had too many cocktails, all of them very fruity and with names that made Alec blush and Lydia grin widely, and the night had ended with Lydia wrapping her arms around his waist for a very brief, very tight hug.

“We’re going to change the world,” she’d said, surprisingly serious and solemn for someone who’d just downed something called ‘A Long Slow Screw’.

“Yeah,” Alec had said, and he’d sort of hugged her back. Just a little.

That place remains their favourite cocktail bar, and they go there at least once a month to catch up and complain about their respective bugbears. Lydia’s is the number of male colleagues who call her ‘Lyds’ and then get pissy when they lose the subsequent sparring match she challenges them to; Alec’s is that Magnus has a recurring customer who likes to touch his arms a lot.

“I know it doesn’t mean anything; it’s just really fucking annoying. Why can’t she keep her hands to herself? I know Magnus’s arms don’t belong to me but _they kind of do._ ”

“I know, honey,” Lydia says, patting his hand and pushing another Cosmo in his direction. “Drink this pink thing. Magnus likes how handsy you get when you’re drunk.”

“I should never have told you that,” Alec says with a sigh, but he takes the Cosmo anyway. He’s drunk and Lydia is great.

* * *

+1 - Magnus

He and Magnus have had a fight. It’s a stupid one, the reason so inconsequential that Alec would already have forgotten it if the sound of the apartment door slamming behind him hadn’t cemented it in his mind, like a bracket closing around an angry exclamation. 

They’re both tired, is the problem. Fucking _exhausted_. Alec’s been working all hours the Angel sends to prove he’s still a great Shadowhunter, a trusted leader; he shouldn’t _have to_ , but apparently the fact that he’s fucking a male Downworlder means he has to be better than everyone else just to be considered _as good_ as them. He doesn’t like it, but he’s willing to do what he has to in order to keep the respect and loyalty of his people. It won’t always be like this. It _can’t_ always be like this. But it’s like this now.

Magnus has been busy even for him, portalling to various places across the globe to fix a number of problems cropping up as a result of some mundane TV show that’s just started airing.

“They got just enough of their summoning lore right to make emulating the show a very dangerous prospect,” Magnus had muttered darkly just hours before, opening a portal to Dubai with a wave of his hands and stepping through with a grimace.

The fight had been about Alec sleeping at the Institute more often, of all things. Magnus hadn’t understood why it had happened four times this week instead of the customary one or two, given that he can just portal Alec back there whenever he needs to leave the loft. Alec had been pissed at the idea that he needed to rely on anyone else - even Magnus - to get around, and explained that his problems didn’t necessarily always have to be fixed with _magic_.

It had kind of escalated from there.

Alec had left the apartment, incensed beyond reason, and the ten-minute walk in the cool night air had done wonders in cooling his temper.

Which is why he now finds himself outside the front door of the loft again, breathing steadily in and out through his nose and telling himself to _just go back in_. Magnus must already know he’s here; the wards are tailored to let him in unchallenged, but Alec’s not naive enough to think that Magnus isn’t alerted to any presence passing through them, invited or otherwise. He can go in and apologise, and it will probably be _fine._

Alec doesn’t knock. He doesn’t walk in. He just stands there, feeling sick to his stomach, wondering if he’s too broken, too _volatile_ , to be good for someone like Magnus. His boyfriend is vibrant and caring, good to his very core; Alec is a fucking mess who regularly puts his foot in his mouth and doesn’t know how to deal with good things, even when they’re handed to him wrapped in a fucking ribbon. 

Magnus opens the door then, as though Alec’s shame spiral is audible even from inside the apartment. He stares at Alec, eyebrows raised very slightly, and Alec-

Fuck. He’s just so _sorry._

He moves forward without any conscious thought, wrapping his arms around Magnus and burying his face in the other man’s neck with a murmured apology that amounts to the word ‘sorry’ over and over again. Magnus doesn’t hesitate for a second, his own hands very quickly finding their usual place on Alec’s back, tugging him in closer and whispering his own apologies in return.

“It’s me, I’m sorry,” Alec whispers. “I just get so stuck in my own head, I can’t- I don’t know how to _do_ this.”

“You’re doing fine, darling,” Magnus soothes, hands rubbing up and down Alec’s back and pulling him even closer by increments with every pass of his palms. Alec wants to melt into him until the buzzing in his head is nothing but a distant memory. Sometimes he doesn’t want to be _him_ , if only for a little while.

“I want to be here all the time,” he says, quiet and solemn like it’s a confession. It kind of is. It’s not like Alec hasn’t implied ‘forever’ when they’ve talked about _them_ , but this is as close as he’s gotten to actually saying it. “I just feel like I need to be two different people. It’s exhausting.”

“I know, Alexander,” Magnus says softly. Alec thinks he probably _does_ know. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Yeah,” Alec says, and finds that the word slips off his tongue without any real input from his brain. He doesn’t mind too much. “I always want to stay.” Magnus’s hands still on his shoulder blades, and Alec feels the breath hitch in his lungs.

“I never want you to go,” Magnus says. It feels like too much for where they are, standing in the open doorway of Magnus’s apartment in an embrace that’s already gone on for longer than Alec can fathom. He doesn’t want to let go.

He never wants to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I went with the prompt 'hugging', and it was mostly just an excuse to write two of my favourite things ever: kinda touch-starved Alec and Alec/Lydia as besties. I wrote this in like three hours while downing Shiraz, so I apologise heartily for any errors. I've moved onto the gin now, though I'm not sure that gives me any kind of advantages. It's got some _zing_ to it.  
> Also - my first 5+1 Things fic! Wowzer. Can't believe I held out this long.


End file.
